


Day Four: Angst

by Eriakit



Series: Liontrust Week 2017 [4]
Category: Warcraft (2016), Warcraft - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Hurt/mild comfort, M/M, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-21 06:58:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11352228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eriakit/pseuds/Eriakit
Summary: For the purposes of this fic, the deleted scene with Anduin grieving in the bar never happened, ever, and everyone survives to have lasting emotional issues. Yay!





	Day Four: Angst

**Author's Note:**

> For the purposes of this fic, the deleted scene with Anduin grieving in the bar never happened, ever, and everyone survives to have lasting emotional issues. Yay!

 

He found him drinking. He usually found him drinking on this day. This Light-cursed, wretched day that everyone celebrated like a second Yule, when he wanted nothing more than to crawl in a hole and hide, running from the feeling of being stuck in a never-ending funeral that should have been his.

So Khadgar found him drinking, and he couldn't bring himself to care. He rarely cared, on… days like this.

“Anduin, please. If you won't help me lift you, I’ll have to teleport us.”

That got through to him, and he groaned as he tried to slide his feet under himself. He wouldn't have been able to get upright were it not for Khadgar. He swayed even when he was on his ass on the floor; the higher he got the worse his balance became. Finally he was standing, his left arm over Khadgar’s sturdy shoulders and his right trembling as he tried to brace against the bar with it. As Khadgar tried to walk him towards the inn’s back door, he saw a bottle of whiskey he hadn't finished yet on the end of the bar and leaned over for it, toppling them both into the bar stools.

Khadgar cursed, shoving free of his dead weight to avoid being struck in his surprised flailing. “By the Light, Anduin, what -  _ for fuck’s sake _ . Really? You know what, no,  _ no, _ that cursed thing is staying here and you’re coming with me.”

He had almost managed to get a hold of the neck of the bottle when he was tugged backwards into Khadgar’s chest. He was comfortable enough, until they started moving and Khadgar’s words sank in. “Wh-no? No! No, Khadgar, it’s mine, I-”

Khadgar made a strange sound, something between a growl and a shriek and a sob, and suddenly blue light was surrounding them. Anduin had just enough time to close his eyes against the blinding flash and nauseating swirls of color before the horridly familiar tug and twist in his gut happened.

They landed awkwardly, Anduin’s legs giving out from under him and Khadgar unable to hold them both up while disoriented from the portal. A couple of stumbling steps and they fell over, slamming into the edge of a table and knocking all manner of things down around them. Khadgar cried out and rolled away, cradling his side where the wood’s corner had dug in. Anduin just leaned against it, clenching his jaw to try and keep his mostly liquid dinner down.

The desk slid out from under his weight, and he lost the battle.

Khadgar scuttled back a bit, attempting to avoid the growing puddle. Anduin didn't blame him, wouldn't blame him if he left - and not just the room, but the city, the planet, left  _ him _ here to rot. But Khadgar never did. Khadgar came, and picked him up off the ground, and cleaned him up, and put him in bed, and kissed him on the forehead in the morning, and continued to love him day after day after day. He just kept coming back, kept trying to help, either with a kind word or a meal or his body or his mind, and every other day Anduin thanked him for it. Every other day of the year but today, this damnable day, every year, when Khadgar just wouldn't leave him  _ alone. _

The mage got to his feet, hissing as he stood, and froze the vomit on the floor to keep it from sinking into the wood. Anduin heard slow footfalls approach, felt a soft hand pet over his head, and jerked away as if he’d been burned.

He didn't know what he said, or if it was even intelligible, his head swimming from the sudden movement, but it seemed to do the trick. Khadgar made that strange sound again and walked away. But he didn't go through the room’s heavy front door -  _ their _ room’s heavy front door, Anduin recognized the bookcases. Instead he went into the washroom and came out with a bucket and a wet cloth.

Anduin shoved at him when he got closer, and found his arms pinned across his own chest by glowing bands of arcane magic. He shuffled around and cursed, trying to dodge the cloth and the relief it would bring. He didn't deserve it, didn't deserve anything, why wouldn't Khadgar just  _ leave _ -

“Because I love you, you fucking prick. Now sit still and let me -”

Anduin snapped his teeth at Khadgar’s hand, and saw as something else snapped in his mage’s eyes.

The slap rang out through the suddenly quiet room. Anduin slowly brought his head back from where it had been shoved to the side by the force of the blow. His eyes burned, tears he hadn't been able to shed all day burning at his eyes before rolling down his cheeks. He dragged his eyes up to Khadgar’s face and saw horror painted starkly across the younger man’s features.

“I-I, I'm sorry, Anduin, by the Light I'm sorry. Let me - let me get you up, I'm sorry, I won't -  _ fuck!” _

Khadgar sank back on his heels, one hand still outstretched as if to touch Anduin’s face. It was pinked from the slap, and wet. Where had the cloth gone? Anduin looked down and saw it on his leg, soaking his pants, dropped carelessly before Khadgar had hit him.

Khadgar had  _ hit him. _

He made a small, confused sound, which was echoed by a sob from the mage. More apologies flowed, but Anduin shook his head. He rolled forward, only then realizing the spell holding his arms had broken, and crawled forward into Khadgar’s space.

“Hit me again.”

Khadgar flinched away from his breath, head tilting just a bit away, before he snapped it back around to stare at Anduin. “What?”

_ “Hit me again,” _ Anduin repeated, shuffling closer. His head felt clearer than it had since the night before, than it had since before his first drink, than it had any other one of these fucking days. These fucking anniversaries, celebrations of their victory at the Dark Portal, the cheering and parties that commemorated the same day he’d lost his closest friends.

Khadgar shook his head, scuttling backwards until his back hit a bookshelf. “No. Light, no.  _ No. _ I won't -”

“You already did. Do it again.” It was cruel, possibly the cruelest thing he'd ever said to Khadgar, and he watched hopefully as the mage’s eyes widened and filled with more tears.

“No.” But it was softer now, less sure, and Anduin wobbled as he rose up on his knees to shuffle towards him again.

“I could attack you first. Would that help?” He could hear the slur to his own voice, could only hope Khadgar could understand him. It seems he could, because he bolted to his feet and put as much space between them as the room would allow.

Anduin cursed and toppled over, vision blurring from how he’d turned his head so quickly to follow where Khadgar went.

“I won't hurt you. I won't hurt you more than you're already hurting, Anduin, I can't.”

Anduin rolled just enough he could catch Khadgar’s eye. “But I want you to.”

Khadgar bolted out the door, leaving him alone. Just like he’d wanted, and it hurt more than any slap or kick or punch could have. He dragged himself to the nearest armchair and pulled one of the decorative pillows off the side, hugging it to his chest as he leaned against the side of the chair.

“Thank you,” he muttered, before everything finally went black.

\---

Anduin woke the next morning to the view of a ceiling, softness under his back, and the taste of mint in his mouth. Agony shot through his head like a bolt of lightning, and he curled up on his side, whining in pain and confusion. He’d - he remembered, he remembered Khadgar left, finally couldn't take him anymore, so who had moved him? Cleaned him? One of the guards, perhaps, come in to investigate after Khadgar bolted. He grimaced. Humiliation wasn't something new, but it was never pleasant. Hopefully tales of their _ great Commander’s _ wretchedness wouldn't go too far.

The room lightened further and he whined again, dragging a pillow over his face.

“Shit, you're awake. I’d meant to be here when you woke, I - but the kettle boiled, and maybe that's what woke you up… Light, Anduin, hold on. I needed the light to get things cleaned up but I can - “

The room got darker by sections, and Anduin’s head spun with confusion. That was Khadgar’s voice, Khadgar’s rambling, but Khadgar had left. He'd run off the best thing in his life, and he…

He rolled over carefully, slowly opening his eyes to a dark room, the curtains closed and blocking out all but the smallest bit of light along the bottom. And standing in front of him was Khadgar, that unique blend of nervous and determined he did so well all over his face and in every line of his body. Anduin felt tears burn at his eyes again. He’d run him off but he _came_ _back._ Anduin cursed himself for thinking less of him. Khadgar always came back, even if he shouldn't.

Khadgar knelt by the bed and slowly reached out to cup Anduin’s cheek. Anduin lifted his head to press into it and turned to kiss the palm, thankful beyond words, and then leaned back in confusion when Khadgar made a pained sound.

“What’s wrong?”

Khadgar looked down at the floor and shook his head. “I left scratches I hit you so hard. I-”

Anduin groaned. “Don't apologize again, please, I more than deserved it. Besides,” he chuckled, then winced at how it hurt his head, “it's not the first time you've left claw marks.”

Khadgar didn't laugh, just went from looking sorrowfully at him to glaring. “That isn't the same and you know it. Don't even compare the two.”

Too tired to argue the scolding, Anduin sighed and shut his eyes.

“No, wait, you need to drink some water. And I…” Khadgar paused, and visibly braced himself. “Next year, you aren't going to the inn.”

Anduin growled lowly. “You're my lover, Khadgar, not my mother.”

“Your mother wouldn't have put up with as much of this shit as I have, from what you’ve said of her. She’d have locked you in a box before letting you drown yourself in liquor.”

Anduin couldn't exactly counter that. Knowing his mother, she’d have joyfully beaten his head in for half of what he’d done last night.

Khadgar shook his head, helplessly amused by the sullen resignation on Anduin’s face at the thought. “You’re not going to the inn next year, even if I have to get Taria to order every guard from here to there to shove you into the canals if you start heading in that direction.” He paused to take a breath, and Anduin tried to hide his panic at the thought. “Next year, we’re both going to the sparring ring. And if that's what it takes, I'll beat you with my staff until you're blue - when you’re sober, and can tell me if you’re seriously hurt, and there’s a healer at the ready for both of us. We’ll  _ spar, _ and we’ll each take our lumps, and if I see so much as a wobble from you, or smell even a whiff of alcohol, I'll call it off. Taria’s already agreed to lock you in the dungeon again, and this time I won’t break you out.”

Anduin gaped at him, staring blankly for long enough Khadgar began to shuffle nervously. Finally, he found his voice. “You wouldn't last night. You, you left instead of…”

Khadgar ran his hand through his hair, looking almost as lost as Anduin felt. “You weren't in anything near the right state of mind for me to be able to take anything you said seriously. I -” His eyes lit up, and he met Anduin’s gaze squarely. “Would you have agreed, if our positions had been reversed?”

His gut twisted worse than it had after teleporting drunk the night before at the very thought. Khadgar, drunk and half mad, begging to be hit. Anduin must have looked as ill as he felt, because Khadgar swiftly got up and fetched a bucket from the other side of the bed. The abrupt movement was the last straw, and Anduin did his level best to purge his already-empty stomach into the bucket as Khadgar held his hair back and gently stroked his shoulder.

“Exactly.”

Anduin sagged, feeling like he’d been whipped all over, and nodded. “I understand,” he rasped. 

Khadgar sighed. “Then we have a deal? Sparring ring, no alcohol, next year?”

Anduin nodded, then squirmed, feeling sheepish. “Probably better the night before.”

Khadgar cursed, and kept cursing as he got Anduin cleaned up and made him drink water and mint tea until he felt like his stomach was floating. But at least he was  _ there _ \- and seemed intent on staying, for some strange reason. Before he fell asleep again, this time sprawled out with his head on Khadgar's lap, Anduin again muttered a sleepy  _ thank you _ .

Khadgar watched Anduin sadly as the tension bled out of his shoulders. He could only hope the sparring would work. This had to stop, for both their sakes.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I was GONNA just end it at Lothar passing out, and have Khadgar just leave, but 1: I just can't do that kind of shit, not to my babies, and 2: I got an idea for the second bit before I'd finished writing Lothar begging. Sooo.
> 
> But then I also almost made it really twisted porn, before realizing canon kinda already did that in the deleted scenes and saying "well fuck that, then".


End file.
